BBW Clubs, SSBBW and BBW forum

Found this on the web, throught it would fit right in. I didn't write this though, someone named fionabrown wrote it. Just wanted to give credit where credit was due. Enjoy.

Story: The Psychologist, pt1

Nearly time for the 2 o'clock appointment - yet another long day. At least she was his last for the day. The buzzer went - right on time. He told his secretary to send her in and take the afternoon off.

-=-

This was her second session. As a well known psychologist and psychotherapist, he specialised in sexual issues. Most of his clients were middle aged women and he was becoming jaded hearing the same problems. At her first session last week she hadn't let much slip and he still wasn't sure what the issue was.

There was a knock and the secretary showed her in.

He welcomed her in warmly. "Mrs Edwins". He rose and led her in. He was only a small man and she towered over him. He knew her type - rich and brash. He expected her latest Mercedes to match her bright jewellery. But unusually she wore jeans instead of some designer outfit. He imagined they were very expensive.

She sat down at the couch, opposite him in his big comfortable soft armchair.

He opened his notes. The professional notes were sparse, but he always kept a separate scrapbook of personal private notes and doodles. He'd written a lot about Mrs Edwins. 'Fat' 'Obese' 'MASSIVE' and 'enormous' scribbled over and over. It was stating the obvious. She was tall - he reckoned about 6'2 or so. This week she was wearing high heels, and seemed so much taller. They must be strong shoes - he looked at her feet squashing the soles down - to take all her weight. She was generally enormous in every direction. Huge breasts - she wore a top that showed her tremendous cleavage. He reckoned he could lose his head in there for sure. Her massive belly was obviously tightly held in but he could still make out the rolls of fat. Those jeans barely constrained her giant bottom - huge round buttocks leading to massive thick thighs. Her legs were big and heavy, all the way down to those great big and wide feet. She made him look like some tiny dwarf - he imagined that one of her legs might weigh more than him.

"So Mrs Edwin. How are you feeling today?" The words came out automatically. He avoided saying "how are we feeling today" - it was so patronising.

Her response wasn't especially telling. The conversation still wasn't revealing what was really on her mind. He knew a trick to make her relax, a sort of pseudo hypnosis, just to make her feel less inhibited. If she really did want to talk about something, this would let it out.

After a minute she seemed to loosen up. He sat back and waited to hear what she was really thinking. He wondered which of the usual problems he'd hear. Orgasm problems. Sexual dysfunction. Husband problems. An affair. Wanting sex with another woman. Or maybe something interesting, something historical. He'd heard it all, or so he thought.

She paused, as if wondering whether she could really say it. He reassured her.

"Don't worry Mrs Edwin, I've heard it all. In my experience there's nothing too big to hang on to." He paused, the word 'Big' lighting up in his mind, too small a description for this giant woman. "Everything in this room is completely confidential".

She composed herself.

"Doctor, I like to sit on men's faces. I think about it all day long. I really like to feel a man under me."

Is that it, he thought. Is that all? He mentally stifled a yawn.

"Thats perfectly normal Mrs Edwin." He was about to continue but she stopped him.

"No, there's more to it than that." She paused, unsure about continuing. He waited.

"I like to squash men under me. I mean, I really like to feel a man under my weight."

He hadn't expected this. He sat up. At last, something interesting to discuss with his colleagues, an odd case. He pictured the scene at the golf club. "You'll never guess - I've got this 30 stone woman who likes to squash men for fun".

He composed himself. "Tell me more about it, Mrs Edwin".

"Ok. " She spoke carefully. "I like to sit on my husband and feel him under me being crushed, to relax on him and control him completely. On his face. "

He could see that merely saying it was having an effect on her - her cheeks were becoming flushed. She wasn't lying. But was it just a fantasy or was there more to come?

"I like to sit on his body and squash him flat. I dream of sitting on him and not getting off, even when he needs me to."

She paused.

"I've even stood on him, walked on him, and stood on his face."

Blimey! This husband must be a very strong bloke, he thought.

"You have no idea how much I like to do it."

He pondered about what to say next. "Why is this an issue?" he asked.

"Doctor, I weigh 33 stones. Have you any idea how heavy that is?"

He had to confess that he didn't really. His wife was petite, smaller than him. He'd never been with a big woman in his life.

"Doctor, why don't you lie on the couch for a second and I will sit on your stomach to show you. Just for a second. " He didn't spot the gleam in her eye as she said it.

He knew that this was wrong and unprofessional, but she had his curiosity. No, he couldn't possibly.

"It would only be for 1 second, Doctor. Then you'd know, and it would make me feel much better for you to understand."

She stood up, really towering over him. He noticed her feet, the skin around the soles squashing out and really pulverising those high heels. That illustrated the weight enough for him.

"Just for a moment, Doctor, then I'll get up and we can carry on."

He decided to go for it. "Ok Mrs Edwin, if it will make this easier for you."

He went to the couch and laid down, face up. He was now looking at her from behind. That really was one enormous bottom. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything like it. His second thoughts came thick and fast. That bottom was in fact giant, and he suddenly visualised how much weight it would impose. Those jeans were as broad across as his whole body, from neck to crotch. Nope. He realised that this would be a bad idea.

Mrs Edwin had other ideas though. Just as he was getting up, she sat down on him. It was quick and solid, as she sat back, driving his body deep into the couch. His face was mashed forwards against one thigh as his whole body, right up to the neck, was compressed completely under her. That wide bottom stretched all the way over his stomach, with all her weight completely mashing him. If this hadn't just been for a minute, the psychologist knew that he'd be unable to move for a month after.

She relaxed her weight onto him, stretching out her legs. She leant back against the couch and just sat.

The pain was becoming indescribable. Her massive bulk compressed his whole body - he was sure his chest had been mashed flat into his back. He couldn't breathe or move a muscle. His arms were trapped by his sides under all that bulk and he couldn't even free a finger. His neck was painfully stretched and bent forwards, his body had been crushed so deep into the couch. The foam of the cushion was pressing his face forwards under her weight right against her thigh. He couldn't eek out a sound to let her know how much pain he was in. He'd knew he'd just have to wait patiently for her to get up. He couldn't even shake his head, and she wasn't paying any attention to his thrashing legs.

But she didn't get up yet. He wanted to say 'OK, got the picture' but there was no chance of that. He was beginning to feel weaker, desperate to breathe. She wasn't moving. He was completely trapped, completely immobile, under her immense weight. There was no chance for him at all.

"Well, thats a minute" she announced. He prepared himself for release, but she didn't move. He couldn't take it any more, but she was in complete control of him. He knew he had no choice in the matter at all, none whatsoever. He so desperately needed to breathe. Then she leaned forwards, and lifted. Release.

He gasped frantically for air, and she sat down again. This time, ever so slightly over, so that she was sitting slightly higher on him, the fat buttock held so firmly by those jeans crushing his neck and chin. She stretched out and relaxed again. And she just sat, feeling the power. After a minute she leaned forward and lifted, then sat down again.

This time she placed a big meaty hand on his forehead, and spent some time slowly pressing his head back into the cushion, demonstrating her strength. Her big hand stretched right round his face, her thumb on one temple, her fingers stretched round to the other temple. She squeezed and gripped his face and pressed it down hard, leaning over slightly.

Then she leaned in the other direction, running her other hand over his crotch. She felt him through his trousers. "Enjoying this are you?" she asked. Not that it would have mattered, she had decided to make an afternoon of it. She'd overheard him tell his secretary that she could go as there were no more clients today.

She lifted up and sat back down again, her full weight easily mashing him and owning him entirely. He felt her lean forward and fiddle with something. Then she sat up, and started to unbutton her top. In a moment he had a side view of that massive fleshy body. Those breasts were huge, but it was her stomach that caught his eye. It had spilt over the top of her jeans and was sticking out massively, resting over her thighs. She leaned back and lifted up, giving him some air which he desperately sucked in. He tried to roll out sideways but there was nowhere to go. She was loosening those jeans now, and beginning to slide them down. Satisfied with her progress at removing them, she sat down again and lifted her legs, moving and wiggling to get them off. Sitting still the compression and pressure seemed to increase by the second, but as she wiggled and lifted her legs, the crushing multiplied. He was sure he was now even deeper into that old couch.

The jeans were off and she lifted up again to slide down her big knickers. He thought he'd seen her stomach in all its glory, but as she slid those knickers off it was released and splurged out hugely. She sat down and again started wiggling and manouvering those knickers off. Then she sat, legs together, stomach resting heavily on her thighs, rolls of fat up her body and those huge breasts.

"Like knicker, do you?" she asked. Not waiting for his reply, she stuck them on his face, hiding him from view, and began gently massaging him through his trousers slowly. After a few minutes, occassionally lifting to give him air, she got up.

But this wasn't to be a release. She took her knickers off his face and leant forwards, that huge belly hanging massively down almost to her knees. She manouvered herself over him, pressing that belly against his body as she lay flat on top of him. She stretched out her legs and then positioned her huge breasts around his head.

Not only was he completely smothered, he was now also completely invisible. Lying on top of him like this, her massive body easily squashed him under her right into the couch. There was not an inch of him to be seen under her fatty folds. Her huge breasts squashed around his head and rested comfortably on the cushion. She squeezed them rythmically together, squashing his face.

Every time she lifted up to give him air, she scooted forwards slightly. Very soon she was pressing her massive, soft and flabby belly down onto his face. Even without leaning forwards she knew that her belly weighed several stones, just resting. Alone it was enough to smother and squash a man's head. And now, lying forwards on his face, it smooshed right around his head. She was in no doubt though, despite its soft flabbiness, that it was a solid heavy crushing weight, easily consuming his head.

Now things were becoming interesting. It was time to squash him under her crotch.

this ones great, it needs to be finished though